


sweet like honey

by sinnerlikeme



Series: stevebucky. [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 1930s, 1940s, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Pining, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-02 00:18:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14532549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinnerlikeme/pseuds/sinnerlikeme
Summary: loving you is sweet like honey.





	1. golden

**Author's Note:**

> hello gays *waves flag*
> 
> this is a stevebucky drabble collection of them being gay  
> mostly an excuse for me to wax poetic but shhh

 

*

 

**i. — golden**

 

steve is golden in the sunlight. bucky can’t get enough of it.

he thinks of wakandan sunsets when the light glints off steve’s hair, igniting the different shades of his blonde locks. bucky can’t resist extending his hand to run his fingers through it; silver meets gold as the strands slip between the plates of his digits. the sensors in his fingertips detect softness; a smile plays on his lips. he appreciates shuri’s attention to detail. touch is important. he likes being able to feel.

bucky lets his fingers trail down the back of steve’s head to his spine, tracing the long, ridged curve to his tailbone and back up again. steve’s skin is a cream valley of freckles and rippling muscles that quiver under the ghost of bucky’s touch. bucky has flashbacks to a lifetime ago where they were in the same position, a smaller steve asleep beside him, bucky’s hand stroking his spine.

time may pass, but the love stays the same. if there’s one thing bucky has learned lately, it’s that—love grows, it adapts, but it feels no different than it did on cold october nights in ’35. if he closes his eyes, he can smell the scent of whatever dinner sarah had made, lingering in the air. the sugary spice of apple pie still on his tongue, mouth swollen from kisses. neck already purpling from the feisty marks steve quietly left.

bucky sighs now, inching closer to steve, craving the natural warmth radiating off his body. he kisses steve’s bicep, letting his mouth linger there. he smells like cinnamon and the linen sheets strewn around them, scents that match his golden aura. bucky lets his forehead rest against steve’s arm, a little exhale of contentment escaping his lungs.

at some point, drifting along the waves of impending sleep, he feels a pair of eyes gazing at him, and tilts his chin up to see drowsy blue eyes fixated on him. steve’s grinning, the corner of his mouth upturned affectionately.

“comfortable?” steve drawls, his voice so low and husky it sends a multitude of shivers down bucky’s own back.

“yeah,” bucky answers honestly, but fills the gap between them as he leans in to press his lips chastely to steve’s. the arm his head was on shifts when steve raises his hand to cup bucky’s neck, his thumb rubbing that tender spot behind his ear. steve tugs him closer ever so gently, his tongue sliding along the seam of bucky’s lips. bucky makes a sound that’s half moan, half whimper, parting his lips to allow entry.

steve ends up on top of him, their legs intertwined amongst the sea of sheets, hands roaming freely, lips at each other’s necks, jaws, and cheeks. _it’s warm_ , bucky thinks vaguely as steve finds his berry-red mouth again. _this is what golden feels like._

shuri once assured him he’d find peace, in one way or another. bucky’s pretty sure this is what she meant.

 

*

 


	2. fast car

 

*

 

**ii. — fast car**

 

“buck, you sure you know what you’re doing?”

a laugh bubbles on bucky’s lips, and the sound fills steve’s chest with warmth. every time he hears it, it’s like a flower blooms inside him, petals soft and vivid like bucky himself. it envelops his heart, reaching down into his soul.

“absolutely not,” bucky teases, winking, shifting the car into gear. steve groans and fidgets on the seat next to him nervously.

“don’t get us killed, now. ma wants me home by seven,” he gripes.

a cheeky grin plays across bucky’s face as his foot taps the gas pedal and the automobile begins to rumble forward. “us,” he corrects. “she wants _us_ home by seven. ’cause she’s makin’ pie and needs me specifically to taste-test. you know, since your palate is so weak.”

steve’s mouth falls open and he gives bucky an incredulous look. “i can taste her pie just fine, thank you,” he argues, miffed. he huffs and folds his skinny arms despite the fact bucky has a point. years of battling sickness after sickness and guzzling medicine has affected his taste buds.

the car rumbles down the dirt road at a safe speed, and steve momentarily forgets his irritation to sit up straight and gaze out the windshield. it’s not often he sees lakes, but this one is small and perfect, the setting sun glinting off the blue-grey surface.

“i’ll go ’round in a circle then park where we found it,” bucky is saying, as perfectly confident as an experienced driver. this car isn’t even theirs; the two of them just finished up doing yard work for a man who lives on the outskirts of brooklyn, and bucky decided it’d be fun to take his fancy car for a spin. steve was aghast, mostly since he’s usually the one getting into trouble.

it’s nineteen thirty-four. they’re allowed to have some fun.

“shit, buck. slow down.” steve is thrown back against the leather when bucky guns it and the car accelerates considerably. “i don’t want to die today least of all because of your dumb ass.” his voice bounces as the car travels over the bumpy path.

bucky laughs again, ridiculously amused, cranking the window down to let the mid-august wind sweep through the cab. it tousles his hair, causing it to flop over his forehead, and he hasn’t looked this happy and carefree in a long time. steve thinks he looks beautiful in this light, smile so pretty it puts that lake to shame. his grubby hands grip the steering wheel, knuckles flexing as he turns the car, and something in steve’s gut lurches.

giggling, bucky finally hits the brakes, and the car rolls to a stop, right where they found it like bucky promised. steve’s head spins and he scrambles out the passenger door, falling to the grass onto his knees.

“more pie for me, then?” bucky drawls, unconcerned.

steve flips him off as he retches onto the ground. bucky howls with laughter.

 

*

 


	3. strength

 

*

 

**iii. — strength**

 

bucky can’t remember the last time his head hurt so much.

pain meds only last for so long, and his vision is starting to blur. he already threw up once; he almost wishes he’d pass out to escape the pain. steve keeps fussing, bringing him water and situating pillows and blankets around him where he lays on the bathroom floor. bucky would tell him to quit it out of embarrassment if he had the energy. he actually kind of likes being spoiled.

steve knocks on the door and bucky makes a sound as loudly as he can without it vibrating in his head. “you need anything, buck?” steve wants to know, and bucky sighs, pinching his nose hopelessly.

“some company would be nice,” he admits, and steve doesn’t hesitate to come in. bucky rests his head on the wall and smiles weakly as steve walks in, worry etched across every inch of his face. bucky pulls his arm from the blanket and reaches for steve, who goes to him and sinks down onto the floor beside him, entwining their fingers. steve brings bucky’s mechanical knuckles to his lips, and bucky squeezes his hand.

they don’t say anything, simply scoot closer to each other until bucky can put his head down on steve’s shoulder. steve kisses bucky’s hair and says, his voice low and gentle, “i’m sorry, buck.” the words are burdened with guilt.

bucky shrugs, closing his eyes. “not your fault, stevie,” he mumbles, because it isn’t. the things hydra did to him aren’t steve’s mistake. brain damage is a bitch, but steve shouldn’t blame himself.

steve’s jaw tics but he doesn’t protest. bucky nuzzles his shoulder and kisses it to make him smile, and it works.

they sit there like that for a long time, savoring the other’s presence. steve’s is remedial, because the fire in bucky’s head dulls enough for him to fall asleep, head still pillowed on steve’s shoulders. steve feels his body relax as he drifts off, and presses a kiss to his forehead. steve’s ass is starting to hurt from sitting on the floor like this, but he pushes that aside for bucky’s sake. a small price to pay for comfort.

bucky wakes only briefly to get comfortable again, curling up on the floor with his head in steve’s lap, immediately going back to sleep. steve grins, hands carding through bucky’s mane, brushing it off his face, shamelessly enjoying the texture of it on his calloused fingers. he lets one hand travel to bucky’s arm, rubbing his bicep over the blanket. bucky sighs contentedly in his sleep.

for someone who was once afraid of touch, it’s amazing how much bucky craves it now.

it makes steve proud. bucky’s a warrior within his own right, and for him the fight never stops—but neither does he. bucky pushes on, keeps moving forward. suffers in silence but tries to find strength when and where he can.

today, steve is his strength. steve’s happy to help.

 

*

 


	4. focus

 

*

 

**iv. — focus**

 

“urgh. buck. close the damn curtains, i’m tryna sleep.”

“nuh-uh. you need sunlight and fresh air, pal. been sick in bed all week, it’ll do ya some good.”

steve rolls his eyes, a motion hidden behind the bony arm over them. bucky’s removing the sheets next and steve squawks indignantly, making a last-ditch grab for his bedding. but bucky’s balling up the fabric to put in the laundry bin.

“you ass,” steve grumbles, halfheartedly pulling himself up.

“yup,” bucky agrees amicably, ruffling steve’s hair. steve smacks his hand away. “come on, up and adam. breakfast’s on the table.”

steve hobbles onto his feet, giving bucky a look. “you sound like my ma.”

bucky’s smile fades ever so slightly. “well, someone’s gotta take care of ya,” he answers softly, gently brushing his knuckles across steve’s cheekbone in a slow-motion punch. “might as well be me, punk.”

steve sighs, shoving bucky in the chest, and reluctantly grabs the sweater hanging on a nearby chair.

bucky made eggs and bacon, and steve’s stomach growls as he takes a seat at his tiny kitchen table. bucky leans against the sink and sips his coffee while steve eats, scarfing it down like it’s his last meal. after a week of congested sinuses and lack of appetite, it’s nice to be able to eat again.

when he’s finished, bucky disappears into steve’s room and comes back with a dress shirt and pants, tossing them at steve. steve holds his clothing and fixes bucky with a scathing look. “opening the windows isn’t good enough?”

“nope,” bucky says jovially. “we’re going for a walk. where’s your shoes?”

five minutes later, they’re exiting the alley onto the street, and bucky’s whistling. steve ambles along the sidewalk beside him, squinting against the ridiculously bright morning sun, chasing bucky’s shadow when he falls behind. bucky doesn’t seem to be heading anywhere in particular, which is the point of going for a walk, steve assumes. he won’t admit it out loud, but breathing the fresh air _does_ make a small difference. his asthmatic lungs don’t hurt as much now that he’s outside. so be it.

despite all the people crowding the streets, all steve can see is bucky. tall, slim, hair combed and shiny (unlike steve’s bedhead). his skin is basically glowing in the sunshine, and steve yearns to touch his cheek, just for a second. but not here, not now. not yet.

the world around them in general dilates out of focus when steve is with bucky. the people turn grey, the buildings and cobblestone streets melt into large blurs so bucky stands out the most. their elbows brush as they walk, and steve’s heart beats fast, out of love, not a health concern (for once). he wishes he could link their fingers together, but even in this out-of-focus world, it’s a risk neither of them are willing to take.

however, he does it as they’re climbing the steps to his apartment, and bucky squeezes his hand, smiling.

 

*

 

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and reviews are cool beans


End file.
